Target
by Mac07
Summary: Ron and Harry are dead. Voldemort is more powerful than ever!Hermione's baby is kidnapped and rasied under the wing of a great assassin.In order for the child to take her place as the greatest assassin in the world she must kill her next target.Hermione
1. Adopted

Disclaimer: No money being made here. These characters belong to J.K.

Hermione ran as fast as she could. Beads of sweat dripped down her face, which was covered in scratches from bushes and trees. She clutched her baby close to her, trying to keep the infant silent.

Hermione saw an opening under abush and slid underneath it. Just as she'd managed to pull her feet in, several Death Eaters went by. She closed her eyes tight and prayed that her baby wouldn't make a sound while the Death Eaters were nearby.

Ron was dead. Hermione wanted to cry out loud with the pain and sorrowshe felt, but she had to keep her mouth shut. Otherwise, his sacrifice would've been in vain. Ron died a few months before the baby was born. He had jumped in front of an _Avada Kedavra _curse to save her life and the baby's.

Harry was gone too. He had died in that last battle with Voldemort, leaving the rest of the world to deal with the horrible wizard. The past few years had been hard. With Death Eaters searching for her day and night, he could never stay in one place for more than a few hours.

Hermione fell asleep under the bush and didn't wake-up until dawn. She felt her chest, expecting the baby to be fussing. She sat up straight when she felt nothing there. She looked everywhere around her, thinking the baby might have rolled off her chest in her sleep. Still, there was no sign of her child. Tears flowed down Hermione's dirty cheeks, and this time, she didn't keep it silent. "Now, she thought, "I really have lost everything."

* * *

Hundreds of miles away, sat Lord Voldemort in a large red arm chair. He was facing the fire, his eyes closed; he was clearly deep in thought. When the door burst open he looked up in anger, no one should be disrupting his private time.

A Death Eater with a scar running down the left side of his face was holding something in his arms. It was moving. The man bowed down at LordVoldemort's feet and stood back up. "My lord, we found something interesting in that search you called for last night."

Voldemort perked up, "Really? Did you find that mudblood witch?"

The scarred man started to look nervous, "No. But we did find this…"

He showed Voldemort the baby. Voldemort's face scrunched up in anger and disgust. "I asked you to find me Hermione Granger and you bring me this? Do I have to remind you that Granger is twenty years old? Does this…" he pointed at the infant, "Look like a twenty year old mudblood to you?" The scarred man began to sweat and shook his head. "But sir, I think this may be _her _child."

Voldemort narrowed his eyes, "Are you sure?"

"We believe so. Should we keep her and use her as bait for the mudblood?"

Voldemort rubbed his chin. "No, Granger's getting weak. You can tell by how sloppy she was running yesterday. It won't be long. We can do it without the half-breed brat. Kill it."

The Death Eater's voice grew shaky, "Sir, please, I beg you. Keep this one alive. I think I have a plan that may work."

Voldemort waved him off, "Fine, tell me, and hurry up, you've wasted enough of my time already.

"My Lord, both of her parents were great wizards. What if we somehow…I don't know…train her in our area of expertise. When the time is right, we'll send her to do the job. Granger will freeze up; she won't be able to kill her own daughter! We can kill the child afterwards if you want."

Voldemort leaned back in his chair. "I like the idea. Granger's death will be so ironic! Fine, we'll do it. But what do we do with the child until then?

The scarred man beamed with pride, "I have a friend who's an accomplished assassin. She could be raised there."


	2. Easy Betrayal

Disclaimer: I am not the owner of Harry Potter or these other characters, J.K. Rowling owns all! Don't sue!

**16 YEARS LATER…**

Oakley walked down the hallway at a brisk pace. Her master and trainer, Donovan Hun was waiting for her in his office. She was so excited. She had been training for this moment for as long as she could remember. Lord Voldemort was coming to their home, to see if she was ready to become one of his lead assassins.

Donovan had said something about the Dark Lord giving her a special task, if she completes it, she will become a very close asset to the Dark Lord, and all of his close assets are treated like royalty these days.

She paused at Donovan's door, but plucked up the courage and turned the knob. She stepped inside and closed the door quietly. Sitting on the couch by the fire was Master Donovan and Lord Voldemort. Donovan had black hair that was now speckled with grey. His glasses where sitting on the table next to him. Oakley quickly walked to the front of Voldemort and bowed before taking her seat. Voldemort did not return her gesture. She sat down in a chair facing the couch and waited for what was to come next.

Donovan spoke first; his voice was a little shaky, "As you can see my Lord, I have done a fine job. She is polite and respectful, not like the other girls of her age."

Voldemort did not seem impressed. "Respectfulness will not guarantee me an assassin. When I gave her to you, you promised me the best female assassin of century. The time has come for her purpose, is she ready or not?"

Donovan sighed, "Physically and mentally…yes. She is beyond the average range of a sixteen year old girl. Oakley has a promising future as an assassin, but..."

Voldemort held his hand up for him to stop, "That's all I needed to hear."

The dark wizard stood up and walked toward the door. He signaled Oakley to follow him. When the two where outside the room, Voldemort took out his wand and cast a spell on the door, soDonovan could open it, nor hear any of the noise coming from outside it.

He put his wand back, turned to Oakley, and said, "Oakley, as your master has told me, you are ready for your mission. But, in order to move forward to that step you must do one task for me here and now."

Oakley nodded, "Whatever it is you command of me, Dark Lord."

Voldemort smiled, "Good. I want you to kill Master Donovan. He knows of this mission and from this point on, he's a threat to our purpose. No one must know, but the two of us. I will be waiting for you here. Kill him, and it will prove you worthy to accept your mission."

Oakley nodded again, and walked back inside.

Donovan was standing by the fire now, his hands behind his back. When Donovan spoke, it made her jump, "I know what he wants you to do. He wants you to kill me."

Oakley replied, "Yes." She withdrew her sword, "I'm sorry Donovan, but you have to die. You are a threat tomy mission."

Donovan turned at glared at her, "Do you really think you can beat me? I've taught you everything you know. There is nothing you know, that I already don't!" With that said, he grabbed his sword from the table and unsheathed it. This time his voice was filled with anger, "I may not be a wizard, but I am still the greatestmuggle assassin Europe!"

He lunged at her, the tip of his sword slicing a piece of her shirt. He slashed several times, not landing a single one. When the blade came near her face, Oakley caught the tip with her bare hands. Donovan's eyes opened wide in surprise, "No! How did you do that? I never taught you that…"

Oakley smiled. "Unlike you, I found out six years ago that I was a witch. You never bothered to tell me. Instead of using a wand, I just…well…exert my magic in different ways." Her smile grew even more as she bent Donovan's sword in half. It was now useless. He tossed it down and backed slowly away from her.

She laughed a little as she said, "What's wrong master? Not feeling so confident anymore?"

Donovan snarled, "You backstabbing little brat! After all I've done for you!"

Oakley's smile never vanished as she slit Donovan's throat. He fell to the ground, blood oozing out of the wound in his neck. She picked up a cloth and cleaned the blood from her sword. When she opened the door, Voldemort looked pleased.


	3. Lucky

Disclaimer: I'm too stupid to create these characters! Everything belongs to J.K.!

Oakley and Voldemort were sitting in a cramped room, lit brightly by a small fireplace and a few candles. She did not speak, but waited until Voldemort was ready to talk. After taking a few sips of his tea, he said, "The performance you showed towards your old master was amazing. It really pleased me how you allowed no pity, emotion, or concern to interfere with your objective. You will make a great assassin."

Oakley smiled, "So I've been told."

Voldemort set his tea down and smiled an ugly smile, "I presume you are ready for your final test?"

Oakley narrowed her brown eyes, "Yes. I've always been ready."

Voldemort laughed, "Excellent!" He tossed a folder at her; inside it were the pictures of her new target.

Oakley opened the folder and paused. The woman on the photo had a great resemblance to herself. The same bushy brown hair, the same eye shape and color, the same nose, the same everything.

Voldemort noticed her reaction and said, "What's wrong?"

She looked up quickly, "Nothing, sir. It's just…this lady. She looks like me. That's all."

Voldemort narrowed his gaze, "Is that a problem?"

Oakley smiled wide, "Relative or not…it makes no difference. She will die."

* * *

Oakley sat in a chair, polishing her sword and daggers. She was supposed to head out at dusk. It was only noon. She looked up when the door to the room opened. Her curly, brown hair fell into her eyes. She pushed it back as she gazed at the young man in the threshold.

He had blonde hair and scars all over face. There was a patch over his right eye, and his clothes looked like they had been to hell and back. But in a way, he had ahandsomeness about him. They way he stood with his sword leaning against his shoulder and the way his hair fell into his face, covering the patched eye.

When he spoke, his voice was smooth, full of confidence and pride, "If I remember correctly, your name is Oakley. The new female muggle assassin that's at the top of everyone's lists."

Oakley gave a slight nod. "Correct. And you are?"

The young man smiled, showing shiny white teeth, "Lucky. That's what people call me anyway."

Oakley smiled, "So you don't have a real name?"

Lucky's gaze narrowed. "Of course I do. But for my own safety, I choose to remain under my alias."

Oakley nodded, "I see. So, what are you doing here?"

Lucky set his sword down and sat in a chair across from Oakley. "Voldemort asked me to assist you with your test, just in case anything goes wrong."

Oakley frowned, "Why? Does he think I can't do it myself?"

Lucky laughed, "No. It's got nothing to do with your abilities. I am the top _male_ assassin in the _world_. I'm just going to give you a few pointers along the way."

Oakley stood up, "Fine, but this is my mission and I don't want you to take over or claim credit."

Oakley walked away, leaving her newly polished sword on the table. Lucky smiled. Girls are so gullible.

* * *

When the sun set Oakley and Lucky headed out to the target's home. The home, conveniently, was nearby. Oakley and Lucky stood outside, on the street gazing at the quaint little house in front of them. It was small, but well kept. Lucky nudged her forward.

Oakley hopped over the little wooden fence and stared into the closest window. It must've been the living room because there was a sofa and a TV. inside. The bushy haired woman was sitting on the couch, sipping coffee and reading a book. Oakley put her left hand on the handle of her sword, readying for the kill. She slowly eased it out of its holster. The woman looked up, and Oakley froze.

The woman was an exact replica of herself. The hair, eyes, complexion…everything was the same. She had no idea how long she held the woman's gaze, but soon Lucky's voice rang through her ears and knocked her out of her trance. "What are you doing fool! Kill her _now_!" Strangely, Oakley couldn't pull herself to withdraw her sword. She turned around and said, "I can't do it. I just can't. I dunno why…"

Lucky pushed past her mumbling, "Figures, women." He had brought a bow and arrows instead. He aimed his bow as he loaded an arrow. The woman's gaze was still on Oakley. Lucky fired the arrow, but using her magic, Oakley stopped the arrow before it even touched the glass. The woman ran out of sight.

Lucky turned around and bellowed, "Now look what you've done! I guess you'll have to die in her place!" He pulled out a dagger and begun to swing wildly at her. Not one swing made contact. She was moving so fast, that she almost appeared blurred. Lucky swung one last time, not even coming close. This time, Oakley took action.

Oakley caught his wrist and snapped it like a twig. He gasped and swung his good fist. Oakley dodged it easily and knocked his legs from beneath him. He fell down with a grunt, clutching his injured wrist. He looked up, with anger in his eyes and hissed, "You can't kill me. Voldemort won't let you."

Oakley smiled, "We'll see." She took one of his dropped arrows and held it right above his neck.

He laughed, "Go ahead. You won't get away with it! Voldemort won't let you live another day!"

Oakley frowned, "No Lucky. It's you who won't live another day."

She closed her eyes as she shoved the arrow into his neck. Blood spattered onto her face and hands as it flowed freely from his neck. He gurgled a bit, and then went still.


	4. Mirror Image

Disclaimer: J.K. is the ruler over all that is Harry Potter. I'm just borrowing her land. :

* * *

Oakley wiped the blood from her mouth. She glanced up at the widow, hoping the woman would still be standing there. Sadly, she wasn't.  
Oakley walked around the house until she found a door. It was locked. She stepped back a few paces, then kicked it with all her might. The door swung open. The woman had obviously apparated.  
She walked through the house, noting all the signs that someone who looked like herself, had been there. There was a fire in the hearth, several books strewn about the floor, and dirty dishes in the sink. Oakley didn't know why this woman evoked such curiosity...but it did.  
Oakley didn't waste time though. With her betrayal and murder of Lucky, Voldemort will not let that go unnoticed. She will be labeled an enemy and sought after, like prey to the hunter. Oakley took off in the opposite direction.  
When it became dark, she made a tiny burrow in a patch of thickets. There was no way anyone could get to her unnoticed. She'd hear the crunching of the leaves and twigs. Even if they apparated, they'd have to land some where.  
She started a fire and roasted parts of a deer she had found dead in the woods. She bit into the greasy meat. Although it had been dead when she arrived, the meat was still fresh.  
After her stomach was full she lay down and looked at the stars. Her mind was not on the sky, but the woman. For some reason, that's all she thought about now. Why did Voldemort want her dead? Why did SHE have to do the dirty work? And why did that lady have that look on her face, like she knew who her and Lucky were?  
Oakley closed her eyes. Tomorrow, she has a different plan. She's gonna find that woman.

* * *

Voldemort walked into the empty cabin. He examined the door. It had been knocked so hard it almost came clear off its hinges. One of his Death Eaters ran up to him out of breath, "He's dead, sire. She got him, in the throat."  
Voldemort smiled. "She is becoming great...I think a little too great. I want her found and brought to me. Alive."  
The Death Eaters looked at their master with concerned faces. Voldemort noticed their reaction and asked, "What? Are you scared of that little pest? She's just a girl. AND she carries no wand. Lucky was just stupid, stupid and big headed."  
One of the Death Eaters stepped forward, his face was sweaty, "But Lord, she needs no wand. There are rumors that she can do magic unlike that we've ever seen!"  
Voldemort laughed, "And what magic is this?" His expression suddenly became cold. "Are you saying that I don't know this particular branch of magic?" All the Death Eaters shook their heads quickly.

* * *

Oakley woke up just before dawn. Her fire was burnt out, but the ashes were still steaming. She rubbed her eyes and moved quickly out of the thicket. Oakley walked along a trail until the sun came up.  
She sat down on a rock and ate an apple she had found. Just as she tossed her core away she heard a noise, coming from several feet away. She stood still, not even breathing. There were voices, men's voices, and they were slowly getting louder. She ran up a tree and pulled several branches over herself to hide.  
Two men, Death Eaters, stepped into the clearing. One was big, and looked stupid. The other was small and skinny. After they had looked around the trail, the big one sat on a rock. "She's gone. I know it. I don't even think she came this way."  
The smaller one smacked the large one on the back of the head, "Of course she came this way Brutus! We've been following her footprints for two hours! She's here somewhere. She's probably hidin' because she heard your dumb voice."  
Up in the tree, Oakley moved just slightly. Brutus and his partner heard the small rustle and turned around.  
Oakley decided she had no other choice. She silently unsheathed her sword as the boys were looking around the base of the tree. She arched herself, preparing to attack. Brutus was scanning the surrounding bushes while his friend examined the tree. Just as Oakley was about to lurch, another Death Eater came out from the brush.  
He hissed, "Come on you two morons! You can't spend all day here." The three Death Eaters walked off; only when they were gone did Oakley release a deep sigh of relief.

* * *

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